Angels Fall First
by Aerias-A-Writer
Summary: RxD, BxC, Deathfic! It's been seven years since Ryo and Dee finally got together. It's been a year since the 'accident'. Can Bikky stop his foster father from going over the edge?


Title: Angels Fall First  
Author: AeriasAWriter  
Pairing: Dee x Ryo, Bikky x Carol  
Warnings: Angst, deathfic, cursing, songfic, suspense, slight insanity (maybe not so slight) Rating: R  
Summary: The loss of a dear loved one may be the end to his mate.  
Notes: Song is "Angels Fall First" by Nightwish, an awesome music group from somewhere in Europe. I'm not totally sure where. Oo Also it's in 1st person POV. I tried to keep the person telling the story secret for as long as possible for the added suspense factor. And I'm also a horrible procrastinator, because I totally waited to the last moment to write this. Like three days before it was due. With that said. . . Enjoy the story (oh, and you might want to bring a tissue box if you're an easy crier). . ..'  
Feedback: Yes, please. E-mail to

Angels Fall First

"Let me die, dear God, please. Just let me die. . ." I whisper softly. Tears rapidly fall down my cheeks, burning as they go yet leaving cold, wet trails in their wake. I stifle a sob that threatens to over take me, my body shivering in the friezing air of the small park. I hear footsteps echo all around me, all hurried, all sure and steady.

But no one dares to stop.

No one cares.

"He's gone. . ."

I can't control the sobs anymore and I just let them come, racking me painfully. The cold winter wind blows through my hair, pushing it into my face as I fall to my knees. It starts to snow once more, but I don't care.

I only had him for seven short, short years. It was not nearly enough time. And now I miss him so very much. I want him back, oh how I wish he was here in my arms again. I know that I would even give my soul to have him with me just one more night. I'd give anything, to feel him, to feel his lips moving softly, then harder against mine as we embraced passionately.

Another, different, set of footsteps comes closer. I listen to the heavier steps of a male, the slow stride of some one hestitating on whether or not to come closer, and the emptiness of sound after he stopped behind me. I ignore the familiar presence and look up through tear blurred eyes to the cloudy sky that thundered over the city. I force myself to take a deep breath and to exhale slowly.

I have to suck up my sobs. I don't want him to see me like this. Then he'll never leave me alone and I won't get to be alone with my grief anymore. . .  
I twist my wedding band on my left hand through the wool of my glove. It still feels cool against the flesh of my ring finger. A silent reminder of the bond we had shared. Of the love that still aches hollowly when I think about him.

The only thing that I could never really bring myself to get rid of. I couldn't find it in myself to throw it away. I couldn't go back on my wedding vows.Oh, my love, if only. . . If only I had been there. . .

But I wasn't. A nocturnal concerto,  
Candlelight whispers me where to go,  
Hymn of gathering stars as my guide,  
Whilst I wander on this path of the night,

"Is there a reason why you're here, Bikky? I told you yesterday on the phone that I was fine. And guess what. . . I'm still fine." I take another deep breath, pausing to wipe away the tell-tale tears that stained my face.

I still don't look at him. When I see him it makes me want to cry even harder. It is a torment to see him. The memories seeing him drags up are just as hurtful. Thinking of all the times when the three of us would spend time together.

"Pa, please. . ." I sigh and force myself to look up at Bikky.

When exactly did he start to call me Pa? I don't think I ever actually notice the transition from my name to this. . . What? Endearment? I didn't catch the change in our relationship, from mere acquaintances to strained friends to. . . Loving, maybe? Family.

His dark eyes are filled with a deep heartfelt sorrow as he crouches down to place himself face-to-face with me. I reach out to push a strand of blond hair out of his face, once again marveling over the unusual contrast of his pale blond hair and dark-toned skin. He pulls my head up when I would let it sink to view the filthy pavement, my chin resting on my chest.

I push him away lightly and beyond my control, more tears appear only to fall, "Shouldn't you be at home with your lovely wife?"

He makes a muffled, yet hurt, noise at that and my head starts to fall downward even more.  
I don't want to deal with him right now. It's been a year since the so called 'accident' had happened. I wanted to mourn alone.

"Pa. . . Carol and I came to visit you, to spend time with you, to. . ." He let his voice trail off, not finishing what he was going to say. But I knew and I threw back my head to let loose a harsh bark of self-mocking laughter. I turn back to face him.

"To check up on me, right?"

He flinched and didn't respond. He didn't need too. He knew and I knew. As the tension in the air intensified, I looked back over at the grove of various trees that housed some of my best memories. It seemed barren in the snowy wasteland of winter. I took a step toward it, but felt a strong hand grasp the sleeve of my leather trench coat.

Embroidery of the stars,  
Undress my feelings for this earth,  
Send me your saliva to heal my scars,  
And let this nakedness be my birth,

"Pa. . . Don't. . . please, just come with me. Carol said that she'd make some warm cider and get plenty of eggnog. I even have a bottle of wine. And. . . The presents that we sent you. You still haven't opened them. Christmas was two days ago. . ."

I shrug off his hand bitterly and study his face closely for the first time in more than a year. He looks older that he is. He's only twenty-one, but he looks closer to thirty. I'm sure this is something else that can be blamed on me.

I turn away.

I don't want to have to face him, it, anything anymore. I don't have any desire to see Carol either. Their first wedding anniversary was about two and a half months ago. I remember how happy we all were at the wedding.

My breathing comes a little rougher. My heart picks up pace. Bikky lays a hand on my shoulder now, turning me to hold me in his arms. It's strange to be held like this after my husband has been dead for a year. Bikky himself is strange. His build is different, he's leaner, and he's taller than. . .

I choke on another sob. His arms tighten around me, but at first it doesn't register. My hands buried themselves in his jacket pulling him closer as I press my face to his chest. I shake, trembling in his foreign embrace.

How could I break down like this in front of my son? How weak have I become? Why can't I just let myself die? Then I would no longer have to appear like a fallen soul. A man with no will to live is better off dead, isn't he?

I feel cold lips press soothingly against my forehead. But it makes me sob harder. He strokes my hair back from my face, muttering nonsense in my ear.

"It's alright, Pa. Dad wouldn't have wanted you to be like this. He would want you to find a way to be happy again."

No. That may be true but I could never be happy without him. He was my other half, my lover, my soul mate. I don't think I can ever recover from his death. From the loss my soul has suffered when we were parted."I. . . c-can't. . . Ryo--"

Macrocosm poured it's powers on me,  
And the hopes of this world I now must leave,  
The nightwish that I sent you centuries ago,  
Has been heard by those who dwell in a woe,

"Oh, Pa. . ." Bikky barely breathed as he pressed me closer. I didn't fight. I no longer had any sense of what was happening. It was cold. And I felt like I was floating.

Ryo, my love, how could I have ever abandoned you. . . It was all my fault. . . I, myself made you die. . . How could I ever do that to you? . . . I loved you more than life itself. . . But I still left you alone. . . I made my choice. . . And I didn't pick you. . .

I hear the sound of a shrill scream raking through the thin winter time air. It's a heart broken sound of utter agony. A strangely terrifying clamor to listen to. It reflects the empty void that is housed in the hollow of my chest.

I realize it's my voice.

And I don't care.

I can barely stop myself from chuckling.

Oh, Ryo. . . I can never forgive myself the mistake I made. . . I watched you die in that spreading puddle of blood. . . I couldn't stop the flow. . .Needlessly you fell when it should have been me lying there. . . It was my fight. . . My fate. . .My inescapable death. . .

Bikky gently pulls me to my feet. I can't feel my legs and they buckle under me. He puts my arm around his shoulder, tugging at me. Pulling me away. I go limp. My body not responding to even me.

But then, I don't want to leave.

Suddenly there's a second pair hands helping him. An almost-familiar face was wavering before me, unfocused to my blurry eyes. I can't tell who it is.

I don't care either.

"Come on, Dee. We're taking you home. You can't just curl up to die and forget the rest of the world, Dee. It's unhealthy. And you weren't the only hurt by Ryo's death. How could you have gotten so selfish?" I shake my head at the disembodied voice.

No! I have to pay for what I did. . . I didn't forget the world. . . I just. . . I don't belong there anymore. . . It's not meant for me. . . And selfish? . . . Am I?. . . No, because if I was. . . I should have been. . . Then he'd still be here. . . I'd still have him. . .

The distance of our bridal bed,  
Await for me to be dead,  
Dust of the galaxies take my hand,  
Lead me to my beloved's land,

Bikky's cold hands are wrapped around my waist and he lifts me up with help. I cry louder and begin to struggle to push him away. Hands restrain me and I think that there is a third set now helping. I let out a cry of frustration.

I hate him. . . I can't take it anymore. . . I loathe this. . . Why can't he leave me be. . . I just want to cry without interruption. . . Mourn my mistake. . . And feel the jagged edges of my broken heart. . . The heart that I myself broke. . . The fool I was. . . I am. . . I will always be. . . How can I mend what I did. . . Can I even start to comprehend?

I feel myself being pushed into the back seat of a car. It's warmer in the vehicle and someone slides into the seat next to me. I turn away and curl in on myself. I feel a hand rub my back soothingly. I pull away from it and the tension in the air builds.

"It's all my fault," I breathe shallowly, my heart aching. "I made him die. . . I didn't save him. . . I wasted time on that bitch and lost him. . . How could he ever forgive me? . . . How can anyone forgive me?"

I heard a quiet sob that wasn't my own as I pressed into the seat. The hand returns to just lay on my back and I can practically taste the hesitation that he must be going through. I bury my face into the cloth seat and try to cry softer. I'm failing.

I hate myself. . . I can't possibly even try to forgive myself. . . If I hadn't left him. . . Chased her. . . I could have saved him. . . I could have pushed him out of the way. . . He could still be here to smile and laugh at Bikky and Carol's jokes. . . To give me that look of utter contentment he had. . . To kiss me. . . To tell me he loved me. . .

"Dee. . . nobody blames you. It was your job to arrest her. . . To chase her and catch her. You didn't know that Ryo would be in trouble. . . No one knew that Ryo would get shot. . . And you are not responsible for his death," I hate that voice. I can't see who's talking. I don't know who's trying to turn away my guilt. To tell me it was never my own fault.

"Damn you," I said coldly, the edge of my voice cutting through the silence in the small car as I looked up. "Damn you for those lies. I knew that there was someone still in there. I knew that he was still hidden in there. And I still left Ryo alone. . ."

Departed by the guillotine of death,  
I received a letter from the depth,  
The dream of my lover it carried inside,

Silence dominated in the car as Carol drove it towards my apartment. Bikky turned in the front seat to look down at me with sad eyes and I turned to see who was sharing the back seat with me. I forced my eyes to focus and I brushed away my tears angrily. I looked into dark eyes and snarled. A one J.J. Adams was sitting beside me in festive holiday clothes of bright red and green as he looked down at me.

"What are you doing here J.J.?" I snapped at him. I was on my vacation time and had told everyone in the department that I didn't want to see any of them doing the holidays. And here I was looking up at one of the biggest nuisances in the NYPD. His mouth twitched upward slightly and I glared.

"I was-"

"Listen here, J.J.! I don't give a single flying fuck at why you are here. When I get home I demand that you all leave me the hell alone. I doubt that there isn't somewhere else that you could be other that at my house pissing me off."

Bikky made a soft sound and I turned to him. His eyes were hollow and I winced slightly before turning to look out the window again. But I refused to take back my words. I refused to back down and choke on my pride anymore than I already have. Carol turned into the parking garage of my apartment building and parked near the front.

I had moved after Ryo had died. I couldn't put up with all of the memories. The dreams and the reminders of my lost love. It was something that I had almost killed myself over the day after he had died.

Bikky had stopped me, taking away the razor blade I had held in my hand.

I opened the car door and got out. I strode forward towards the elevator and escaped up to my apartment. I closed the door behind me and locked it. I didn't want them coming up and trying to enter later. I just wanted to be alone. I look out of the window in the living room and watch the snow drift down as I take off my coat and gloves.

It's beautiful, but I hate it.

How dare the world still be pretty when the most beautiful creature it has ever seen has died such a horrible death! I still remember Ryo saying how wonderful the snow was. So gentle and pure as it falls to the earth.

How pure was the snow? Eh, Ryo? How pure was it when it was strained red with your life's blood? When your life flowed out onto it?

Caressed by the sharpest knife,  
I asked you to be my wife,  
Rays of the setting sun,  
Were my tears wept on promises undone,

I close the curtain again and turn away, my gaze falling onto yesterday's newspaper and I pick it up. I skim over the headlines and toss it away in disgust. More deaths, more muggings, more rapes, it's always the same. But somehow over the past year it has seemed to get worst then ever before.

I snort to myself.

The world always did seem to be worse without the hazy fuzz of love blurring the over all look of our lives. I'm not sure if it's a bad illusion to lose or not. Actually I know it is. When I still had Ryo I had hope for the future. Now I have nothing. I am just waiting to join him again in the next world. In the heavens I'm sure. I can only hope that Ryo is waiting for me.

I move on to my bedroom and turn on the light. I look from the full size bed to the desk and then to the dresser. The only things in my almost empty room. I could bring myself to put up anything else. Ryo was always the better designer and picked out everything in our apartment. I just could stand handling all those things that he had so lovingly picked out to decorate our home into a cozy and welcoming space for family and friends.

Damn, I can't help but think of him every waking moment. He was my entire world for so long and then he was gone in a blink of an eye. His death still echoes throughout my mind as I try to sleep.

I get up from my bed and decide to run some warm water in the bathtub. I test the temperature of the flowing liquid with the delicate flesh of my wrist. I sigh and wipe my wrist dry before returning to my bedroom and digging out a pair of boxers. Then I turned to the closet for a comfortable set of pajama bottoms. I return to the bathroom to place my clothing on the cabinet top.

Ryo used to join me when I took my baths. And sometimes we'd just relax together, soaking in the warm water, letting the stream fill the bathroom. We would just softly kiss one another, lovingly touch each other, our eyes always filled with the other. Love radiated between us in those moments of ours.

I turn the water off and stand in front of the mirror, looking at myself. I've changed quite a bit since he died. I am thinner, my eyes haunted with dark baggy flesh under them, and right now they were also red and puffy from when I was crying earlier. I seemed to have cried myself dry in that mess of sobs just under an hour ago.

But truth be told, I still feel like crying. I just have run out of tears. I need to just rest a little, then I'll be fine. Won't I? I'm not sure anymore. If Ryo were still here. . .

If Ryo were still here. . . But he's not.

Come to me,  
Make me believe,  
To you and your love again,

I watch my body shake in the mirror, fascinated. My puffy eyes focus on myself and I want to turn away but I am drawn to the almost grotesque figure that I have become. Only skin and bones is what I think I heard someone call me, once. But I do eat, even though I never seem to get hungry at all anymore. Or maybe the pain of my heart just drowns out the pain of an empty stomach? I wouldn't really know. I don't pay close enough attention to anything really, not even my own body. What's the point?

I'm not really loved by anyone. The only one that really loved me is gone, and he's dead because of me. After all who'd really want to love anyone that got their loved ones killed? Ryo didn't know better, but now all the others do. And I just push away all those that doubt it, Bikky and Carol just don't understand any of it. They are still too young, full of life to know the bizarre intricacies of Death. It took myself almost a year to understand after Ryo's death.

I slip into the now lukewarm water in the bathtub and stare at the ceiling. My body aches, my ribs in particular feel sore. Those racking sobs are painful both during and after, but it won't be the last time that I feel them sweep over me. Or will it?

Ryo, my love, what would you do? . . . What could you do? . . . I just don't know if this life is worth living anymore. . . I don't have you and I need you so very much. . . I just need to know if you can hear me. . . Know that you still care. . . That you may even forgive me. . . But I don't expect it. . .

I rinse the soap off of my body and reach for a towel to dry myself with. First patting my face dry before rubbing away water droplets from my shoulders and arms. I finish drying off and hang the towel up to dry on the rack. I shiver in the cool air and hurriedly pull on my silk boxers and warm cotton pants. I take another look into the mirror and grimace at the obvious appearance of my ribs. They show so much more than they use to, but I hadn't really even noticed all the weight I have lost.

I turn away with a sigh and wander away into my study. It was actually the dining room in this tiny apartment but I always eat in the kitchen and I need a place for my books to go. A place for all my important documents to be stored away. I sit in the chair and look down at the only picture of me and Ryo that I had actually took the time to put out. It's a picture of our wedding more than three years ago, after he had moved in with me and I had enlarged my own apartment.

Do you remember that day, Ryo? You told me it was one of the happiest moments in your life. It was one of my happiest days. I got you.

Above the Universe,  
Beneath the Great Eye,  
I shall desire you forevermore,

With a small empty smile, I pull open the top drawer in this desk and open up the false bottom. I pick up the slim box that lay with in and placed it on the desk. I open up the silver box, taking out the letter on top and glance over the contents of the faded page. It's the wedding vow that Ryo wrote for our wedding. He had been so loving to me.

My breath catches and a tear falls to splash on the tiny ink letters that flow so beautifully across the page. I brush my fingers over the flowing handwriting of the man I had loved more than anything else in the world. I close my eyes and take a deep shuddering breath.

I can see his smile as he turned back to me. His eyes twinkling so softly, his lips slightly parted in desire. I brushed my thumb over those lips, kissed them, tasted them so tenderly. His eyes closing slowly as he panting grew louder and I pulled him against me.

My eyes snap open and all I see is the empty room in which I'm standing. My breath is visible and I wonder how long it's been since I had last turned the heat on. But I can't remember or bring myself to move to do so. My eyes fall back on the silver box and I reach down to pull forth a small bejeweled dagger that Ryo had brought a couple of years before he had died. It was a beauty with rubies and diamonds encrusted in their settings on the hilt.

I run my fingers over the blade of the dagger and chuckle at the sharpness as blood begins to show on my index finger. I bring the tip into my mouth and suck the blood. It's taste tingling over my taste buds as I walk into the kitchen, still holding the dagger tightly in my other hand. I study every inch of the small blade.

"It's so beautiful, Ryo, and surely a worthy blade to help me on my journey. I'm tired of being alone Ryo. Please wait for me. Come to take me in your arms as I have longed for all this past year. I'll be along shortly, my love."

Holding out my left arm over the white porcelain sink, I watch the blade bite into the flesh of my wrist. I don't even feel any pain as the blood begins to flow down to stain the white. I smile broader, a tear falling to join the blood. I am still seeing the white snow flooding over as red blood mixed with it.

"Ryo. . ."

I appreciate the irony of the way I chose to die. I had to watch Ryo's life flow away, the blood flowing quickly away into the snow in the old warehouse without a roof. His life ended by a single bullet from my own gun. And now I can watch my own life drain away into the no longer white sink. My blood has been loosed from my body by the very same dagger he had kept as old fashioned protection. And I will watch the steady flow leaving my body.

Drip by crimson drip. 

Fin

AN: scratches back of head, chuckles Sorry, not good at the fluff. But I've been told that I'm pretty good at the sad, insane stuff so. . . Hope you enjoyed. And please give the feedback! I need it to improve. Thank you for your time. giggles and walks away


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